Ah, I don't know where this came from. Sorry if it's out of character.

Disclaimer: If I really owned Bones, do you think I'd be here?

The first thing he sees as he regains consciousness is two concerned faces looking down at him.

He winces and moans and tries to blink the sleepiness out of his eyes. He has no idea what's just happened but he knows that it's probably embarrassing. Yes, he mentally nods. He knows for a fact that it's embarrassing. Even in this dazed and confused state that he's in, he knows he should be mortified. He always seems to end up mortified when it comes to these two. Somehow.

"Sweets," the man says. "Hey, you okay?"

He blinks his eyes, unsure.

"I'm glad that you've regained consciousness," the woman tells him, robotically. "You had us worried for a few minutes. Booth was about ready to call 911."

"Wha-" he tries. What the heck are you talking about?

"Well, you've been out for like ten minutes. I thought maybe you hit your head or something," the man explains in response. He moves back for a second to give the young man some space, and some time to gather his thoughts. There's relief in his eyes, but he still struggles to keep the concern away.

Sweets blinks, again.

"No, it was more like five minutes, Booth," the anthropologist corrects, tossing him a quick look. She returns her attention to the young man sprawled out on the couch and frowns. "Are you all right, Sweets? You fell significantly hard."

"Mm, m'fine," Sweets slurs. "Fine. What happened?"

"Hey, whoa. Take it easy for a second," Booth suddenly commands, carefully holding a hand to the psychologist's shoulder and pushing him back against the back of the couch. "Don't try to get up. Just relax for a minute, all right?"

"What happened?"

"You fainted," the agent replies.

"Fainted?" Sweets repeats, confused. Yes, he nods. He's mortified. He doesn't need to know that under what circumstances - he fainted in front of these people and that's bad enough. Whether or not there was a good reason for it, doesn't matter. He wishes they would just go away and leave him to hide. He hates how things like this always seem to happen.

"Yes, during our conversation," Brennan answers, softly. "You said you were feeling light-headed and then you collapsed. Booth tried to catch you in time before you hit the floor but you fell out of your seat before he could reach you."

"Oh, God."

"Yes, that's exactly what you said before you collapsed."

Sweets looks up at Booth and shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I don't even remember what we were talking about...uh. Sorry, I don't...I don't really know what...happened back there. I'm okay, I'll be fine. I'm just a little...dizzy."

"Here," Booth interrupts, handing him a cup of water that he seemingly retrieved from mid-air. "Drink some water. It'll help you calm down."

The psychologist doesn't even protest. He takes the cup of water from the agent's hand without hesitation and eagerly takes a drink. When he's done, he hands the cup back to the man he got it from and sighs.

"Should we take you home?" Brennan asks.

"No, no. I'm fine," the psychologist assures. "I'll be fine, don't worry. I just - I probably didn't eat a good breakfast or something," he decides, carefully sitting up and inching closer to the edge of the seat. He tries to ignore the helpful hand on his shoulder, embarrassed, and attempts to stand himself up.

"Perhaps you should stay seated."

"I'm fine, Dr. Brennan."

"She's right, Sweets. You should sit down," Booth agrees, gently pushing the profiler back down onto the couch. He ignores the young man's protests and shakes his head. "You just fainted, all right? You need to take it easy. Just relax for a minute, okay. Me and Bones will take you home in a few minutes."

"I don't need to go home," he tries.

"Eh, when you faint, you don't really have a choice."

"I have work to do," Sweets reminds. "I don't have time to be sick. I need to finish that profile for Agent Edwards and then, then I gotta go...do that other profile on Henson. I think I got enough information about him to get a good...idea of what goes on in his head. I want to work on the case, is that, is that what we were talking about? Before I fainted, I mean."

There's a glance between the partners that confuses the psychologist beyond belief. It means something. He just doesn't know what.

The thought scares him.


Brennan is first to answer," We weren't talking about the case."

"Then what were we talking about?" he asks cautiously. There's something about their sudden change in demeanor (they looked concerned before, but now they just look like they're holding something back; he hates it when they keep things from him). Something that worries him.

Booth sighs. "Sweets, let's just get you home okay? We can talk about this later."

"What is it?" Sweets demands, suddenly more lucid than ever. "What were we talking about? You can tell me."

"Um," Brennan begins.

His eyes dart between the two. They give eachother another quick look (something along the lines of "Yes, we can do this, we've got no choice") and turn their attention back to the curious psychologist, waiting impatiently for an answer.

"Look, Sweets." Booth continues, "There's something you need to know."


Again, there's hesitation. "Bones and I...we..."

"What Booth is trying to say, is that..."

"Well, I don't know where to begin, uh..."

"Booth...Booth and I are..."

"We...well, we...see, there was this..."


"And we...well, we..."

"Booth and I ...we have something important to say."

"Yeah, but...it's kind of hard to say..."

"Well, it's not difficult actually. I think Booth just has a difficult time understanding how to share this news with you because he's worried about how you will react. It's why we didn't tell you earlier. In fact, you're the first to know. We thought you deserved the right to know before anyone else did."

"Yeah. Bones and I thought that...that you should know before anyone else did."



"Yes," Brennan nods. "So just tell him, Booth."

"Careful, Bones. This is a sensitive subject, all right? We need to approach this carefully."

Sweets looks like he's going mad. "What? Approach what carefully? What are you guys talking about? What, did something happen?"

Booth frowns, as if he knows what he's about to say is going to cause him some serious distress. His face carries this expresison of concern, guilt, fear, apology and something like pleasure. Sweets is trained to spot reactions from people, he can see it. He doesn't know what it means, though. The agent simply takes a deep breath and continues. "All right, all right. Let's just get this over with."

He looks Sweets dead in the eyes to show him he's serious then quickly says, "Bones and I are pregnant."

There's not even a blink. "What?"

"Well, Bones and I...are expecting a baby...together," Booth explains. "I don't mean we're both pregnant, because you know, I'm a guy and guys don't get pregnant. But Bones, she's a woman. Women get pregnant. And Bones is pregnant, okay? You understand?"



Still not even a blink.

"Did you hear me? Bones is pregnant."

"Yeah, I heard you," the psychologist confirms, though there's not even a nod. His face is expressionless, his eyes full of something that Booth isn't trained enough to understand. "I heard you. Dr. Brennan is pregnant, you said."

"Yeah," Booth repeats with a slow nod, confused as to why the psychologist is not making it into a big deal. Definitely not what he expected at all. "And it's my baby, Sweets. Bones is pregnant with my baby..."

He gets no reaction. He shares an uneasy look with Brennan and frowns.

"Why aren't you freaking out? Bones is pregnant with my baby, Sweets."

"No, no. I heard what you said," Sweets tells him, finally blinking his bothered eyes. "I heard what you said. She's pregnant with your baby, that's what you told me. I got you."


"Booth isn't lying," Brennan helps. "It's the truth. I am pregnant. Almost three months, in fact. We decided to keep it a secret for a while until we were sure how to break it to everyone. You're the first one we've told, Sweets. We knew we could entrust you with knowing until we were ready to tell the others."


There's a shake of the psychologist's head. He purses his lips in thought and then looks up at the two of them, a look of refusal on his face. "Yeah, sure."

"What, you don't believe us?"

"We're not kidding with you, Sweets," Booth replies. "Bones really is prengant."

"Yeah, you really expect me to believe that?" Sweets laughs. "That's like the stupidest, most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Like you two would really take that risk. You can barely admit your feelings to eachother, and yet you expect me to believe that you two...slept together and are having a baby. Ha," Sweets chuckles, mirthlessly. "Nice one, guys. But I know you're just messing with me."

"We're not," Brennan protests.

"Dr. Brennan, with all due respect, if you really were pregnant, you wouldn't have told me first." Sweets says knowingly, "In fact, I would probably be the last to know. You would have broken the news to the team before you even got to me. Angela's your bestfriend, she would get it out of you and tell everyone for you. I would be the last to know."

"We told you first because we thought you deserved to know," Brennan counters, hurt. "And yes, Angela is my bestfriend but...but you have been our psychologist for quite a while. And though I find your motives questionable, I must admit, you've proven to be an asset to the team and I consider you one of my personal friends."

"If you considered me a personal friend, you wouldn't lie to me."

"She already told you, she isn't lying," Booth replies hotly. He's getting annoyed by Sweets' stubborn refusal. Perhaps they should have waited, he thinks. Maybe they should have told the others first. Sweets apparently isn't mature enough to handle the information. "Whether or not you want to believe it, is up to you. Now do you want a ride home or not? We don't have time to argue all day, all right. We have a case to finish."

"I don't need a ride home," Sweets rejects, pushing himself up from his seat and shooting a harmless glare at the agent. "I'm fine."

"Good. Then you finish up that profile for us and Bones and I will be in touch," the agent says, gently grabbing the anthropologist by the arm and pulling her along with him. Just as the two reach the door, Booth halts, pulls something out of his pocket and tosses it over to Sweets.

The psychologist fumbles to catch it in surprise, and looks up. "What is this?"

"Just something you should take a look at," Booth replies, turning his attention back to his partner. "Bones and I got to go. If you still feel sick later, you call me. We'll take you home," Booth tells him. "We'll see you later."

The door shuts and Sweets stares at the photograph in his hand, confused. It's black and white and not very defined, but he knows what it is. He just has trouble believing it. He flips the image over and sees the unmistakeable message penned in Booth's handwriting.

Baby Bones, first sonogram, August 14th, 2011.

"Do you think he'll believe it?" Brennan asks, from outside.

From the sound of a body hitting the floor with a thump, Booth nods. As he turns to open the office door and check on their once-again syncoped friend, Booth smiles. "Yeah, Bones. I think he believes us now."